


but i'd still take you home

by likewinning



Series: nothing gets crossed out [6]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M, Pining, can you spell self-indulgent?, tim drake has a crush on everyone pass it on
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-28
Updated: 2015-03-28
Packaged: 2018-03-20 00:34:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3630066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likewinning/pseuds/likewinning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Tim is assigned to tutor Jason, Jason skips class a lot, and everyone is a little in love with Dick Grayson. Or, another high school AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	but i'd still take you home

It's bad enough going to the same school as Dick does. Everyone expects Jason to be just like his brother, even though they're fucking _adopted_ , even though it's clear there's barely anything between them besides blue eyes and dark hair.

It's bad enough ending up in some of the same classes, listening to teachers dote on Dick and sigh over Jason's total inability to do his assignments. It's not that he's lazy, or stupid – he always kicks Dick's ass when it comes to the actual _testing_ \- it's just that he can't be fucking _bothered_ to come to class every day.

So it comes down to this: they assign Jason some kid, some kid younger than _he_ is to tutor him – after Jason refuses point blank to have Dick do it. It's not like Dick has fucking _time_ , anyway – he's too busy trying to fuck half the school before he graduates, or whatever.

Not that Jason cares.

"Look," Jason tells the kid – Jim, or Tim, or something not even enough letters to _really_ be worth his while. "I'm not a dummy. I just think this place is bullshit. I'll probably drop out and get my GED once I'm seventeen, anyway."

The kid – Tim, definitely Tim – makes a face at him. He's got this pointy little face, the kind Jason really likes to punch. "But what about college?"

Jason laughs. "Do I look like college material, man?"

"Lots of people who don't do well in high school flourish in college," Tim says. He shifts the strap of his backpack on his shoulder. He must be carrying at least seven books in that thing; Jason can see thread of the straps starting to tear.

"Yeah?" Jason asks. "Is that what _you_ keep telling yourself?"

Tim's face turns a little pink, and Jason feels like an asshole. It's not _Tim's_ fault Jason can't make it through a week without ditching half his classes to go get high with Roy, or mess around in the back seat of Kori's car.

"I do just fine, actually," Tim says.

"Sorry," Jason says. "That wasn't – I really don't need tutoring, though."

"I know," Tim says.

"You know?"

Tim blushes a little again, but he gives Jason this kind of shy, quiet smile. "I've seen your tests, Jason."

"How the hell did you do _that_?"

Tim shrugs. "I help grade sometimes. Besides, everyone knows you're smart. You just don't –"

"If you say _apply myself_ , so help me, I will kick your ass."

Tim smirks. "You could try," he says. "I'm tougher than I look."

He's _tiny_ , is what he is, but Jason's not really one to talk – he only just got as tall as Dick within the last couple months. Up until that point Dick would still mess around and pick him up, would –

"I still have to record that I helped you or whatever," Tim says. "I can just fudge it, if you want –"

"Come over," Jason blurts.

Tim looks tilts his head. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Jason says. "I don't give a shit what anyone says to me, but I don't want to get you in trouble. Bad karma, you know?"

Tim considers, bites on his bottom lip. "I'm not doing your homework for you, Jason," he says then, and Jason laughs. "Neither am I. But you can hang out and do yours at my house, if you want."

*

Jason does end up doing his homework, mostly because when Jason brings Tim home, Alfred's so ecstatic to see Jason with a friend that doesn't smell like weed and cheap gin that he keeps bringing them drinks and snacks and asking Tim all sorts of questions.

"Sorry about him," Jason says, the third time Alfred shows up with a plate of crackers and offers to make Tim something for dinner.

"That's all right," Tim says. "My parents –" he starts, and then stops himself. He scribbles something on his math homework – fucking _trig_ , ugh – and then grabs a cracker.

"What about your parents?" Jason asks. They can't be worse than _his_.

"Nothing," Tim says. "They're fine. They're just away a lot."

"Business?" Jason asks.

"No," Tim says. "Well, maybe sometimes, but usually they just – travel." He shrugs, munches on the cracker, wipes at the crumb that falls on his jeans. Alfred was so excited to see Jason with a friend he even let them _eat_ in Jason's _room_.

"Without you?" Jason asks. Sure, Bruce is gone a lot, but Alfred's always around.

"I don't mind," Tim says, but Jason gets a feeling he kind of really does, he's just – used to it. "I mean, they miss parent teacher conferences – and my eighth grade graduation… And the play I was in…"

"You were in a play?" Jason asks, and he grins because he's starting to get just how to make Tim blush.

"It wasn't a big part, or anything. That's not what I wanted to do. I was just going to be an extra but someone dropped out at the last minute."

"Huh," Jason says. "Theater geek. That explains why I haven't seen you around much."

Tim snorts, spraying cracker crumbs everywhere. "Jason, you haven't seen me around because you haven't come to fifth period in like three months."

"Yeah, well," Jason says. He leans back, stretching his arms over his head. "I'm a busy man, you know. Vibrant social life, and all that."

"Right," Tim says. "How could I forget?"

*

Tim doesn't stay for dinner, but he does let Jason show him around the place a little before he leaves. They're in the main hallway when Tim stops, staring at one of the pictures on the wall.

"What is it?" Jason asks.

"You know him?" Tim asks, gesturing to the photo. It's from a few years ago, the last family picture Bruce made them all take – him, Dick, Alfred and Damian. They took another one the same day, Jason with his hand around Damian's throat, Dick giving him bunny ears, but Bruce went with the more traditional one for the wall.

"Who, Bruce?" Jason asks. "Uh, yeah, obviously, we're in his _house_."

Tim looks at him like he really _is_ stupid. "Not him. _Him_." And he points to Dick, right there in the middle, looking all made up and fucking perfect as usual. After they took that Jason messed up Dick's tie, ruffled his hair, scuffed up his shoes climbing up him –

"I didn't," Tim says. "I didn't know you were related."

Jason looks at Tim. "We're not," he says. "I mean, Bruce adopted both of us, but that's it. We're not –"

 _Brothers_ , he doesn't say. They're not, not _anymore_ , but he can't get the word out.

"Oh," Tim says. He's still staring at the picture, and his face is all pink again. Jason clenches his fist.

"What is it?" Jason asks. "Do you have like, a crush on him or something?"

Tim's cheeks darken even further, but he finally stops looking at the picture and turns to Jason instead.

"It's cool if you do," Jason says. "I mean, everyone does. He's the perfect one, and whatever."

"No," Tim says, too quickly. "I mean, not that – I just never realized – I mean, I've never seen you guys talk or anything."

Jason raises an eyebrow. "You been spying on us, Timmy?" Tim doesn't say anything. His eyes are a little wider, and Jason's standing a little too close. "Or maybe just on him?"

"I just," Tim says. "I mean –"

"Maybe you should be tutoring _him_ instead," Jason says. He knows he's being an asshole again, knows he should stop – he _likes_ this kid, really – but it's just. Dick. Every time he thinks he's got something of his own –

"I should go," Tim says. He shifts away from Jason, not meeting his eyes.

"Do you want a ride back?" Jason asks.

"No, it's fine," Tim says. "I live – close. Tell Alfred thanks for everything."

He runs off before Jason can say anything else.

*

Jason ditches school for the next two days. He and Roy head out to Star City, get drunk on someone else's yacht and set a small fire before Dick shows up to drive them back home. He lets Roy take the front seat so he can at least pretend to be sleeping while Dick lectures them about bad life choices.

At least Dick keeps good on his word not to tell Bruce – although when Jason comes home smelling like a day's worth of booze and with a new tattoo on his arm, it's pretty obvious, anyway.

He figures the two days, plus the two that he's then suspended for ditching, are enough to make Tim forget about him altogether, but on the afternoon of his fourth day off from school, Tim shows up at the house.

Jason's outside on the porch smoking when Tim comes up the driveway with his usual backpack full of books and another two in his arms.

"Uh," Tim says when he sees him. "You're not sick."

"Just in the head, man," Jason says. He stubs out his cigarette. "What are you doing here?"

"I offered to bring you your homework," Tim says. "I know you don't actually _do_ it, but I thought I'd see how you were. But you're not sick," he says again.

"Sorry to disappoint," Jason says. "You wanna sit down?"

Tim nods and sits next to him, setting his backpack down as he does. "What the hell do you even have in there all the time?" Jason asks.

"They're called books, Jason," Tim says. "People read them sometimes and gain knowledge about different subjects."

"Fuck you, nerd. I read all the time."

"I know," Tim says. He ducks his head, then says, "I'm taking some college courses, too. I'm hoping to graduate by next year."

"Fuck," Jason says. "Just when I was starting to think I finally made a friend around here."

It's a joke, but Tim looks back up at him and he's – kind of beaming. Fuck. "Maybe you have."

Jason clears his throat, looks away. "Sorry I was such an asshole," he says. "I'd make an excuse, but that's actually all there is to it."

"It's okay," Tim says. "To be honest I expected worse."

"Yeah?" Jason asks, looking back over at him.

"I mean, no offense, but people kind of talk about you like you carry around a knife or something."

Jason smirks. "Who says I don't?"

"Well, at least five of the books on your shelf were about pacifism and meditation –"

"So maybe I'm just fucking with you –"

"Or maybe you're just fucking with me _now_ ," Tim says.

Jason grins. "A little bit. So –" he starts, but the door opens behind him and Dick comes outside.

"I thought I smelled an ashtray," Dick says.

"And I thought I smelled your shitty cologne and bad taste in clothing," Jason fires back.

Dick grins, leans down to ruffle Jason's hair. Jason thinks about kicking the shit out of him, but, company. "Who's this?" Dick asks.

"Tim Drake," Jason says. He tilts his head up to look at Dick, says, "He's gonna help me graduate before you do. Suck it, loser."

"Hey, Tim," Dick says. "Don't let Jason fool you." He smiles at Tim, his whole face fucking lighting up with it. "He's smarter than anyone I know."

Jason reaches for his cigarettes, lights one up. "Fuck off," he mutters. Dick laughs, ruffles Jason's hair again, leans down and kisses the top of Jason's head. "Too bad he's going to die of lung cancer before he's twenty-five."

"And yet, I'll still outlive you," Jason says.

"Yeah, yeah," Dick says. He scoots around Jason, starts off down the walkway. "It was nice meeting you, Tim," he calls back.

"Y-you, too," Tim calls after him. They're quiet until Dick is gone, and then Tim says, "He's a little – intense, isn't he?"

"Yep," Jason says. He takes a drag of his cigarette. "That's our Dickie. He'll run circles around you if you let him. Used to drive Alfred crazy – he'd never just stay _put_."

"Hm," Tim says. He messes with the strings of his hoodie, glancing at Jason every now and again as Jason finishes his cigarette.

"God," Jason says. "Let's talk about anything else, okay? Like are you going to do my homework this time?"

Tim snorts, smiles at him. "No," he says. "But if you're nice, I might stay for dinner."

*

It's just the two of them, Damian, and Bruce for dinner at first, until Dick shows up halfway through and Tim spills his glass of water everywhere. He apologizes, and Damian tuts about uncivilized guests, but Jason kicks him hard enough under the table to bruise and the kid shuts up.

Afterward, they head back up to Tim's room for a while. They finished their homework hours ago, but Tim's parents are out of town again, and Jason doesn't have anywhere to be except _maybe_ school tomorrow.

As they're walking up the stairs, Tim's phone buzzes. He looks at it and then laughs.

"What is it?" Jason asks.

"Nothing, just – I told my friend Steph where I just had dinner and now she's freaking out. She told me I should steal something and sell it on Ebay."

Jason grins. "We can raid Dick's room if you want. Except there's probably nothing in there besides a year's worth of cereal bowls."

"And his shitty wardrobe," Tim reminds him.

"Kid, I knew I liked you," Jason says. He switches the light on in his room, and Tim turns back to look at him. "You do?" Tim asks.

Jason gives him a look. "Dude," he says. "Have you seen the people I hang out with usually? I don't invite _them_ around here for dinner." Mostly because Roy would probably try to steal the silverware, and Kori would insist that crop tops are perfectly fine dinner attire, and –

Yeah.

"You didn't invite me," Tim points out. "Alfred did."

"Yeah, but – whatever." Jason clears his throat. "You wanna watch a movie or something? Or do you have to go home soon?"

They sit down on Jason's bed. "Mrs. Mac leaves around seven every night, so I should probably get home before then," Tim says. "And she gets kind of weird if I walk home in the dark."

"Well, who wouldn't?" Jason says. "I mean, look at you."

Tim blushes, and Jason feels accomplished. "Shut up," Tim says.

"I'm serious, man," Jason says. "I mean, if tiny and pretty is your type."

Tim looks at him. "So what's your type?"

"I mean, I'm not picky," Jason says.

"Red hair?" Tim asks. "Kori, she's your girlfriend, right?"

"Jesus, no," Jason says. "Kori's not _anyone's_ girlfriend. She and Dick dated for a while, I guess, but that one kind of – you know."

"Oh," Tim says.

"And she and Roy – but then again, _me_ and Roy."

"Oh," Tim says again, a little softer.

"I'd say it's complicated, but it's really not," Jason says. "It's just sex, you know?"

"Right," Tim says. "Um."

"Sorry," Jason says. "Am I making you uncomfortable?"

"Not – exactly," Tim says. "I guess I'm just not –"

"A slut?" Jason asks, and Tim makes a sort of choked sound. "It kind of runs in the family around here."

"You're not," Tim says. "I mean."

"I kind of am," Jason says. "Like right now, I know you're freaking out, but all I keep thinking about is how much I want to kiss you."

"You do?" Tim asks. His eyes are _huge_ , and when Jason touches his leg his mouth opens a little.

"Yeah," Jason says. "But it's totally fine if you're not into that. I know –"

Tim kisses him. His teeth clack against Jason's and his nose bumps Jason's cheek a little too hard, but then Jason reaches up, touches his jaw and fixes the angle, and it's – really nice. Tim tastes like the ice cream Alfred served for desert, and his mouth is soft and warm against Jason's, and when Jason sucks at Tim's bottom lip, Tim reaches up and tugs at the collar of Jason's shirt.

When Jason pulls back, Tim's face is flushed and he's panting a little. "Hm," Jason says, and Tim says, "Do that again?"

"I mean, if you insist," Jason says, and he kisses Tim again, slides his tongue against Tim's, turns Tim on his side and cups Tim's face with both his hands. Tim makes a soft little noise against Jason's mouth and his hands slide through Jason's hair, holding Jason to him as Jason sucks on his top lip, then his bottom one.

"Hey," Jason hears, and he and Tim both pull away quick, turn to see Dick standing in the doorway. "Oops," Dick says. "Sorry. Didn't mean to interrupt a very important tutoring session."

Jason knows his face is as red as Tim's. It's not like Dick hasn't seen him in more compromising positions – it's not like – 

"Fucking knock, man, would you?" Jason asks.

"Sorry," Dick says again. He rubs at his neck. "I was just coming to see if Tim needed a ride home. It's getting kind of late."

"If Tim needs a ride home, I'll take him," Jason snaps.

"Didn't Bruce take your keys?" Dick asks. Jason gives him a look. "Right, delinquent, I forgot. Well, happy hotwiring, then," he says, turning to go. "Nice to see you again, Tim."

"Right, you too," Tim stammers.

Jason glares at him, stands up. "C'mon, I'll take you home."

*

It's a short ride to Tim's house, less than five minutes. Jason doesn't say anything, and Tim doesn't either until Jason pulls into his driveway. "Do you think you'll be in school tomorrow?" he asks.

Jason shrugs. "I'm not suspended anymore," he says. "I guess I should probably make an appearance or two."

"At least show up for fifth period," Tim says. "Then I'd get to see you."

"You sure you don't want some time alone to stammer at Dick?" Jason asks. Tim stays quiet, and Jason says, "Fuck, I'm sorry."

"You keep saying that," Tim says.

"I know," Jason says. "I just – I know you're –"

Tim reaches over to the radio, turns the volume down. He switches overhead light on and says, "Look. I've had a crush on him for years, okay? I mean, you said it yourself, he's perfect."

Jason bites down on the inside of his lip, waits.

"But that's a crush. I don't even know him, not really."

"You'd just like him more if you did," Jason mutters. He needs a cigarette, but Bruce threatened to sell the damn car if Jason ever smoked in it.

"You don't know that," Tim says. "And anyway, that doesn't matter – because I like _you_."

"You don't know me that well, either," Jason points out. "I mean –"

"I know that you always stay for exactly five minutes of American History," Tim says. "I know that one time after Barbara Gordon's mom died I saw you hug her in the hallway, and you kicked the shit out of everyone who started asking her if you'd gotten her pregnant."

"Yeah, well, Barb's –"

"I know you've read comic books on your phone all through Spanish class for the last semester."

"So, what's your point?" Jason asks. "I'm a closet softie, _and_ a closet nerd. Now what?"

"Now nothing," Tim says. "I'm just saying, I don't know anything about your brother except that he's good-looking and everyone likes him. And I don't know you very well either, Jason, but I _want_ to."

Jason stares him down, feels himself starting to smile, tries to hold it back. "You've totally been stalking me for years, haven't you?"

Tim rolls his eyes. "Sure, Jason. Just come to school tomorrow, okay?"

He reaches for his backpack, starts to get out of the car, but Jason reaches for him, tugs him back in by the sleeve of his jacket. He kisses Tim hard, fast, pushes his tongue into Tim's mouth just long enough for Tim to make _that_ sound again. Then he lets Tim go.

"Skip fifth period with me tomorrow," Jason says.

"Jason…"

"Come on," Jason says. "We'll go mess around in one of the storage closets. Everyone will be scandalized when you come back with a bunch of hickeys."

Tim's eyes widen, and he licks his lips. "You _are_ kind of a slut, you know," he says.

"True," Jason agrees. "But I got this feeling you'll enjoy it." He squeezes Tim's leg, and Tim lets out a sharp breath. "I guess you already _are_ ," Jason says. "Fuck." He lets Tim go, says, "Jesus, go take care of that before I get us both in trouble for public indecency right here."

Tim nods, but he still doesn't go. He turns back to Jason, asks, "Kiss me again?" and Jason laughs but drags him back so Tim's practically in his lap, kisses Tim until they see the porch light go on and Tim scrambles out of the car holding his backpack over the front of his jeans.

*

Jason can't convince Tim to skip class with him, but he manages to drag Tim off school property to lunch, Tim protesting all the way that sophomores aren't allowed to go off campus. "Live a little," Jason tells him. "It's not like I'm trying to get you drunk."

Tim worries the whole time they're waiting in line to order their food, but once they sit down to eat, he relaxes a bit. "So you're really gonna make me go back there the rest of the day, huh?" Jason asks, starting in on his fries.

"It's not a prison, Jason." Jason gives him a look and says, "Yeah, okay, most of the people there suck, and the teachers aren't all the best, but it's like you said. You're not a dummy."

"Nope," Jason agrees. "Just a fuckin' slacker. I've got a killer painting going for art tomorrow, though."

"You paint?" Tim asks.

"Sometimes," Jason says. "When I first started living with Bruce, one of the shrinks said I needed an outlet or whatever. I've got some anger issues."

"You're kidding," Tim says. Jason throws a straw wrapper at him. "Anyway, I'm not great at it or anything, but sometimes it helps to just put on some loud music and throw paint around. Not literally," Jason adds at Tim's look.

"Can you blame me for wondering?" Tim asks.

Jason tosses a fry at him. "Fuck you, I paint some classy stuff."

"You could show me sometime," Tim says.

Jason grins, shows his teeth. "Ditch with me today, kiddo, and I'll fuckin' paint _you_."

Tim gulps at his soda. "I'll think about it."

*

Tim doesn't know anything about painting, not really, but he knows when he sees something he likes. Jason has a separate room for his artwork, the floors covered to protect the wood beneath them, the walls splattered beyond repair with color.

He circles the room, walking from one canvas to another. Some of it is more abstract, just swirls of color Tim doesn't quite understand, but here and there he can pick out places around Gotham that he knows, people he knows – there's one of Bruce Wayne, head thrown back in laughter, one of the grounds outside Wayne Manor.

There's one of Dick Grayson, and Tim hates that he stops short at it, wishes Jason hadn't caught him –

"That's an old one," Jason says. "He used to have this scar, right here –" Jason points to Dick's left arm where a long pink line runs from the inside of his elbow to underneath the t-shirt he's wearing in the painting. "It's mostly faded now."

"It's beautiful," Tim says. "I mean, it's really –" he turns to look back at Jason, watches his expression. "You two used to be closer, didn't you?"

Jason nods. "He saved my life more than once," he says. "For a while there, he was kind of my world, you know?"

"Yeah," Tim says. Jason leans forward, mouths at Tim's neck, his shoulder. His hands slip under Tim's t-shirt and his thumbs brush over Tim's abs.

"God, I was just a kid," Jason says. "Barely thirteen, and if it'd been me – if I'd been the only one here with Bruce – I would've been fuckin' furious to have a new kid around. But Dick just gave me this hug hard enough to squeeze my bones and told me he was glad I was here."

Tim shivers as Jason's teeth graze his jaw, as Jason sucks at his bottom lip before moving back down to his neck. "What happened?" Tim asks.

Jason laughs, but it's not a happy laugh. Tim reaches up and brushes the hair from Jason's forehead, runs his hand down Jason's back. "Nothing. Everything. I don't know. Even back then, Dick had all these friends, all these – I just wanted him to be _my_ \- mine. You know?"

He looks up at Tim, and his eyes are this bright, terrifying blue, full of the kind of need Tim recognizes, the kind he's felt for years. Only, he never knew what it was he needed, until –

"I know," Tim says. He frames Jason's face with both his hands, angles his head to look up at him. "I could be that," Tim says. "I mean, I know I'm not perfect, I'm not _him_ , but…" Tim breathes out. "If, you know. I'm."

Jason looks at him a while. His hands are still under Tim's shirt, and Tim hasn't let him go, either. Then Jason says, "Lie down, okay?"

"What?" Tim asks, and Jason laughs, and this time it's not so terrible. He kisses Tim on the lips; he still tastes like salt from lunch. "Trust me, you'll like it."

"Okay," Tim says. He does as he's told, settling back against the sheets covered in dried paint. Jason follows him down to the floor, spreads Tim's legs and settles himself between them.

Jason pushes Tim's shirt up, kisses his stomach, brushes his mouth over the sparse hairs there. He looks up at Tim. "You ever done anything like this before, Tim?" he asks.

"No," Tim says. He's too turned on to lie, probably wouldn't even if he could. "I almost – with one of my friends, but."

"Steph?" Jason asks.

"No," Tim says. "Conner. But I – wasn't ready."

Jason pauses, fingers on Tim's belt. "Are you ready now?" he asks. "Because –"

"You don't have to ask me," Tim says, a little too quickly, and Jason gives him a look. "Uh, yeah, I kind of do."

Tim pushes himself up enough that he and Jason are face to face again. "I know," he says. "But I mean. I want to be – I want this. Anything you – want to give me. And then I want – just, please. That's – that's what I mean when I say you don't have to ask."

Jason lets out a breath. " _Fuck_ ," he says. "You know I'm not letting you go back to school after this, right?"

Tim snorts, feels himself smiling helplessly, stupidly, as Jason's hands get back to working his belt open. "Yeah, I kind of suspected that might be the case."

"Good," Jason says. He kisses Tim again while he pushes Tim's jeans down, then his boxers. "Now lie back down."

Tim does, but it only takes about a second before he's arching back up, because that's Jason's hand on his cock, thumbing the precome at the head, and then that's Jason's _mouth_.

"Oh my god," Tim breathes out. " _Jason_ , are you –"

"I'm gonna blow you," Jason says. "I'm gonna suck you off so good that it's gonna ruin you for anyone else that ever does this for you. Do you want that?"

 _Do you want that?_ Jason licks the underside of Tim's cock and Tim _whimpers_ , can't say anything but, " _Please_."

Jason grips the base of his cock, says, "Tell me."

"Jason, please, just –"

Jason grips him _harder_ , but his mouth still isn't – quite – "Use all those big fancy words you know, baby."

"Suck me off," Tim pants out. "Please, I want you to, and then I want to suck _you_ off."

"Hm," Jason says. " _Now_ who's the slut?"

Tim tries to answer him, but Jason takes that moment to actually put his whole _mouth_ on Tim, to suck the head of Tim's cock between his lips and start to slide _down_ , and Tim forgets all of his Spanish, history, _and_ English at exactly that moment. 

He doesn't know anything, for the next five minutes to the next eternity, except for Jason's mouth around him, hot and wet and perfect, Jason's hands holding him down when he bucks up a little too hard, Jason _humming_ around him, sliding up and down him fast and then slow and then fast again until Tim's coming before he can warn Jason, before he can do anything but pant Jason's name.

Jason pulls off him with a filthy slurping noise, wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand. He crawls off Tim, moves to lie down next to him, turns on his side to face him. "Well?" he asks.

Tim's bones feel like liquid and he feels warm all over, but he reaches for Jason, touches his side. "You're amazing," he says.

"Thanks," Jason says, laughing. "You're not so bad yourself."

"I want," Tim says. He pulls at Jason's shirt sleeve, tries to remember at least one of the three languages he knows. "Will you," he says.

"Words, darlin'," Jason says. "You're gonna have to figure out how to work 'em again."

"I want to see you," Tim gets out. "All of you, when I. Will you? Is that?"

Jason laughs again, face turning a little pink. "Close enough to English, I guess," he says. "Sure, if that's what you want." He sits up and pulls his t-shirt up, then stands so that he can take off his shoes, jeans, and then his boxers, and Tim – stares, for a minute.

He's known for a while that Jason's beautiful. Even before they started spending time together, when they were just in some of the same classes, he always _knew_. But he spends at least a minute just staring at Jason, the old scars on his chest, all the ink his clothes always hide. He knew Jason had tattoos – he's caught glimpses of them now and again – but he didn't know the shape of them, the size of them, the colors.

"I used to, uh," Tim says. He runs his fingers over Jason's tattoos, followed by his mouth. He circles his tongue around Jason's nipples, listens to Jason's heart speed up for him. "I used to want to be a photographer, you know? I'd run around all over the place with a camera."

"Yeah," Jason says. "I can see that. Fucking stalker."

"That's my whole point," Tim says. He kneels down in front of Jason, not sure he can do this, not sure _how_ \- but certain he wants to. "If I had one right now, Jason, I wouldn't be able to stop taking pictures of you."

Jason touches Tim's mouth with his thumb. "You're a fuckin' mess," he says.

"You're _beautiful_ ," Tim says. "I want – " He lines himself up with Jason's cock – it's bigger than his, and thicker, already leaking precome. "I've never done this," Tim says.

"I know, baby," Jason says. He smoothes Tim's hair back, makes him look up at him. "So take it slow."

He does, at first. He experiments, takes Jason's cock into his mouth tentatively, slowly, just to get used to the taste. He likes the quiet sound Jason lets out when he sucks on the head like Jason did for him.

"Watch your teeth," Jason reminds him when he moves his head down a little further. "There you go," he says. "Yeah. God, you're so warm. So hot. You look so pretty with my cock in you. I bet you'd look good if I fucked you, too."

Tim moans around him, startled and completely turned on at the thought. "God, yeah," Jason says. He puts his hand in Tim's hair, grips him just a little. "Feels so good when you make noise. Do it again for me?" Tim does, and Jason shudders under him, and then again when Tim reaches for his balls, squeezes them the way he squeezes himself when he's jerking off, a little tight but _good_.

"I wanna fuck your mouth so bad now," Jason says. "Wanna just shove my cock in you, lick the taste of me outta you." Tim moans again, tries to get more of Jason in his mouth but sputters a little when he does. He's drooling now, and he can feel his eyes starting to water, but he doesn't want to stop. He wants to hear Jason above him, wants Jason's knees shaking, wants Jason's hands in his hair, holding himself up against Tim.

"Fuck," Jason says. "Fuck, Tim, let me look at you." Tim flicks his eyes up to Jason's face. "God," Jason says. He rolls his hips, and this time Tim's ready for it. "Did you ever think about doing this for him? Ever get yourself off just thinking of him coming down your throat like I'm gonna do?"

He can't lie, can't talk, can't do anything but _agree_ without pulling off – and he doesn't _want_ to pull off. His jaw hurts from the rhythm he's started but he doesn't care, doesn't care about anything but Jason's hands in his hair, Jason's voice above him asking, "You gonna swallow my come, baby?" 

And Tim doesn't have to nod or moan, just looks up at Jason again and says _yes, anything_ with his eyes and then Jason's coming and Tim's doing the best he can to swallow, until he _has_ to pull off – because Jason's pulling him off, kneeling down to kiss him _stupid_.

"Was that," Tim says, when he finally remembers how to breathe. "Was I –"

"If you ask me if that was okay, I'll kick your ass," Jason says.

"Has anyone ever told you you're extremely violent?" Tim asks.

"All part of the charm," Jason says, grinning.

Tim lies back down on the floor, watches Jason move around the room and open the curtains to let in some sunlight. "You know, if we went back now, we could still make last period," Tim says.

Jason turns to him, still naked, drenched in sunlight. "Maybe," he says. "But I'm not sending you anywhere until you've got at _least_ three more hickeys."

*

Tim wakes up when the sun is setting, still curled up in a paint-covered sheet on the floor. He fell asleep hours ago listening to the quiet sound of Jason's paintbrush on the canvas, watching Jason pace from one unfinished work to another, still half-naked and covered in red and green and yellow within minutes.

When he wakes up, Jason offers him a blue-smeared hand to pull him to his feet. Tim yawns, shivers when Jason tugs his shirt back over him where it was riding up. "I thought you needed music to paint."

"Usually," Jason says. "But who needs music when there's the surprisingly melodic snores of Tim Drake?"

"I don't _snore_ ," Tim protests.

"My mistake," Jason says. "I guess there was just a whale in here for two and a half hours."

"Shut up," Tim says. "I –"

The door opens, and Damian sticks his head in. "Father asked if you two would – ugh, Todd, put some _clothes_ on, this isn't a _barn_."

"It's not?" Jason asks. He scratches his chest. "But _you're_ here."

Damian flips him the bird and walks back off.

"I'm not certain," Jason says, pulling his jeans back on, "but I'm pretty sure what the darling little demon child was _trying_ to say is that dinner's ready. You in?"

"Depends," Tim says. "Will you go to all your classes tomorrow?"

Jason scowls at him. "Everything but fifth period."

"You know, if you fail History, they're just going to make you take it again next semester."

"At which point I'll just borrow all your old homework. I knew I liked you, kiddo."

"I guess if you fail all your classes," Tim says as they start down the stairs, "At least we'll end up in the same grade."

"At the rate he's going, he and Damian are going to be sharing classes soon enough," Dick says, joining them on the stairs. "Hey, Tim," Dick says.

"Hi," Tim says. He feels his face get a little warm, but he doesn't stammer.

"You, uh, got a little something –" Dick starts to say, gesturing to Tim's neck, but then he realizes what those marks _are_ and blushes.

"Uh. Never mind," Dick says. Jason and Tim are both still laughing as they follow Dick into the dining room. Over dinner, Damian starts recounting his traumatizing story of walking in on Jason half-naked.

"Really, Jason," Bruce says.

"What?" Jason asks. "You're the one who wants me to go to school so bad. _That's_ what happens when I do."

Tim nearly chokes to death on his soup. Jason pats him on the back, uses the opportunity to slip his fingers under the collar of Tim's shirt. Tim's really looking forward to the drive home.


End file.
